


Chance encounter

by TrenchcoatsandMisery



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a Sweetheart, Castiel is not sad, Charlie is castiels wingman, Dean is, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Park meeting, Sam is ok, They love each other, good kush, i'm gonna stop, idk - Freeform, my apologies, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 18:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchcoatsandMisery/pseuds/TrenchcoatsandMisery
Summary: When Castiel meets dean at a park one day he couldn't know what would come out of their chance encounter. Centered around destiel, but I may introduce some background ships depending on what is most wanted by readers.Obviously none of the characters belong to me, thank CW and Eric kripke.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Umm I don't know how to actually put it in but this chapter's called "Donuts, Dogs and a very handsome man"

 

"What about him?"  
"Charlie, for the last time. I AM NOT GAY."

Charlie sighed, tilting her head down and glaring at castiel over her glasses. Castiel had intended the trip to the park to be fun, turning up at the redheads apartment at ten in the morning and dragging her pale ass out for some much needed vitamin c. But sitting under the shade of an ancient oak, dew soaking through his trench coat and into his pants, all the while listening to Charlie rate the passing joggers and late afternoon moochers by attractiveness was not what he'd call an ideal situation.

"C'mon. I mean, look at his ass. Some of these guys are almost hot enough to turn me straight!" Charlie gestured franticly at a passing runner who glanced at them strangely.

Castiel severely doubted the whole "turning straight thing" , especially considering she'd been in a relationship with a barista named Dorothy for the last 2 years. But it was hard not to admit that the quality of midmorning Sunday joggers was very pleasing to the eye, and Charlie was definitely not lying about their butts. However Naomi, his stern mother and sole parent after the disappearance of his father, had raised castiel and his many siblings in a severely religious environment and the interest in boys butts combined with his incredibly gay best friend were turning him into an anxious mess.

Castiel stood up, brushing off his tan trench coat and smoothing down his dark and now slightly damp suit pants. He left his tie loose, not understanding why to look professional you needed a piece of clothing tied around your neck. His loose tie was a small sign of rebellion in his otherwise perfect rule following record.

"If you're gonna keep this up I'm gonna need sugar. I'm going for donuts, want anything?"

Charlie opened her mouth as if to say something but stopped halfway. Heaving an irritated sigh castiel crossed his arms, deciding that if she didn't want anything he sure as hell wasn't getting anything for her. And as he turned around, another snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, 80 lbs of fur and muscle slammed into him.

He fell. One moment he was up, the next he was down, a large golden Labrador sitting on his chest. Castiel struggled to push the beast off, which simply turned it's head and licked his face in reply. Looking up he saw Charlie sitting there with the same startled look on her face.

"HELP ME PLEASE CHARLIE?!?"

She glanced in his direction and leaned over to him with a panicked expression.

"Hot guy, I repeat HOT GUY."

Her voice was hushed and serious, the urgency in its tone not quite fitting what she was saying. Castiel opened his mouth to yell at her when a sharp whistle broke through the tense silence. The dogs ears perked up, head tilting towards the sound before it scrambled off his chest. Castiel sat up, breathing heavily as he fought to catch his breath, and rose ready to give his mind too the dogs owner. But when he turned, expecting to confront some ten year old kid who couldn't control their dog, he came face to face with a god. There was simply other way to describe him.

He was probably in his early to mid twenties, maybe a couple of years older the Castiel. He was tall, tan, with a chiseled jawline and bottle green eyes and was wearing about three layers of clothing even though it was a warm summers day: a shirt, an over shirt and a battered brown leather jacket that was slightly too large for his lean frame. The man knelt down to stroke the now perfectly still dog and muttered a couple of soft words as he ruffled it's fur.

Castiel cleared his throat angrily, praying to God that his face wasn't as red as it felt. The man looked up at Castiel, comprehension dawning after a couple of seconds when he seemed to realise why Castiel was so angry. As the man rose, Castiel couldn't help but notice that his denim clad legs were ever so bowlegged. So maybe he wasn't quite a god, but still pretty damn perfect.

"Aww man. I'm sorry, he's not usually like this."

He continued to stroke his dog, a small smile on his face. His voice was deep and manly, but tilted up at the end in a humorous and friendly way. He met Castiel's gaze again and frowned.

"Hey, are you ok? You're a little red in the face..."

Fuck. Castiel turned to look at Charlie for assistance to find her already standing next to him, a playful smile dancing across her face.

"Hey there! My names Charlie, this is Cas, and you areeee..."

Her sentence wavered off as she lent in and stroked his dog. The man smiled, a simple facial expression that managed to turn castiels insides weird.

"His name's Watson." He chuckled, a deep sound that was the most magical thing cas had ever heard. "And my name's Dean."


	2. Trenchcoats, Redheads and a very important meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deans POV

Dean wasn't sure how Watson had escaped from his leash, but one minute he was there and the next he was gone. The day had started off good, with perfect weather to walk to the local coffee shop to meet with his brother Sammy, who he hadn't seen for months. But now here he was, regretting his multiple clothing layers (though he would never remove them no matter the heat) and looking for the dog his brother had bought for him as a leaving present. Dean had almost given up when he spotted the bouncing mass of golden fur sniffing something by an old oak tree, and with a whistle the dog was by his feet again.

"You're lucky I found you, Sammy would have been pissed if I turned up without you." He murmured and was seconds away from giving him tummy scratches had he not been cut off by an irritated cough. He looked up to see a young man in a rumpled suit glaring rather angrily at him. It took Dean a moment to realise that the glare was primarily at Watson, and the dirt and grass marks on the mans tan trench coat may have been from the overexcited ball of energy sitting innocently next to him. Dean rose and came face to face with the guy, who was roughly his age yet seemed older from the stern look on his face. He was tall, though still shorter than dean and was thin, but not in a sickly or weak way. He wore a dark suit under the dirty trenchcoat, a dark blue tie loose against his neck which had dean fighting the urge to reach out and fix it. Becoming conscious of the fact that he was seconds away from staring at the poor guy for way too long he brought himself to speak.

"Aww man. I'm sorry, he's not usually like this."

Deans hand reached out and patted his head. He really did love the mutt, and even though he'd never admit it to Sam, the dog had reduced the amount he'd missed his brother. He looked back up at the man and was startled at the colour of his face.

"Hey, are you ok? You're a little red in the face..." 

From the alarm on his face, Dean knew he definitely shouldn't have brought it up. He began to apologize when a woman popped up at the guys shoulder, tossing her red hair and grinning at him. She introduced herself as Charlie, the man as cas and then leaned toward dean and stroked Watsons chin. Although dean didn't like the fact that she'd touched watson without permission, or the fact that her grin was definitely a clumsy attempt to be flirtatious he couldn't help but smile at the Fandom shirt (I am sherlocked) or the vaguely outraged expression the man... "cas" had on his face.

"His name's Watson." He couldn't help but chuckle at the joy on the girl Charlie's face. "And my name's Dean."

Charlie stuck out her hand and dean awkwardly accepted. The last person he'd shake hands with was sam, on his graduation day. She talked nonstop as she stroked his dog, most of it sherlock related and dean noticed she dropped quotes calmly as she spoke, almost as if testing his ability to notice them. When he quoted some scenes of his own she flashed him another Cheshire cat grin.

" So dean, before dear Watson here interrupted me and cassie were about to get donuts."

She wrapped her arm loosely around cas's neck, who had up to this moment been looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"I think you mean I was going to get donuts."

His voice was surprising, less serious than his demeanour but with a slight gravely edge. The joking tone he adopted when talking to Charlie was one of familiarity, long time friends dean guessed.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, wanna come? We could use another pair of hands with the amount I'm planning to buy."

Another alarmed look from cas made dean laugh.

"I'd love- cause I'm back in black I hit the sack"

His ring tone cut him off and he checked his phone.

"SON of a BITCH"

Cas cocked his head to one side, confused.

"What?"

"I'm late. Very late to a very, very important meeting with a brother who's waiting for me right now. I'm sorry I have to go."

Charlie grabbed his shoulder as he turned to go, thrusting a pen at his face.

"Phone number. Now. I'm not losing my long lost sherlock brother, cas here doesn't get it."

Dean sighed, checking the time. He was already late, what was ten extra seconds? He scrawled his number onto the arm she offered and then after looping a leash around Watsons neck, sprinted off too where his brother waited.


	3. Phone numbers, Denial and Social media

As Dean ran off all Cas could think of was his ass. Sure, there was the weird way he ran and the fact that he was a really nice guy but the fact was he had a fine butt. And from the look on Charlie's face as she stood in front of him, arm raised in triumph and face set into a self-satisfied smirk, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I'm still not gay."

"Sure you aren't honey. Suurree you aren't. "

She linked her arm through his and began to pull him towards the path that would take them home. She was humming softly to herself, the same tune that Dean's phone had blared out . Dean. He'd been... nice.

"What'd ya think about dean?"

Sometimes Cas swore Charlie could read his mind.

"I don't know. He's nice. You seemed to get along."

Charlie stopped in her tracks, grabbing him by the shoulders and pressing her face close to his. Several fellow pedestrians had to swerve put of the way as they stood in the centre of the busy footpath.

"My gaydar is never wrong Castiel. I'm right about Gabriel-"

"Gabriel is not gay"

"Are you literally blind? Anyway, I'm right about him, I'm right about you. No, don't deny it. Everyone in that park saw you checking out Dean's butt. So trust me when I tell you that Dean is at least 50 percent gay."

Castiel shrugged her hands off, but smiled so she knew he wasn't mad. Charlie frowned for a couple of seconds, but then she beamed at him suddenly, looking down at the number written in blue ink on her arm.

"I have an idea"

An hour or so later (a stop at the donut store had turned a twenty minutes walk into a full blown saga about the lack of chocolate donuts at several stores) they sat in Castiels bedroom, Charlie typing away on her laptop. Castiel watched her nervously, the speed of her fingers over the keyboard making him concerned about what she was doing on it, especially because she hadn't stopped smirking since they had sat down. He was about to give up watching her and go get a soda, because when Gabriel got home the can of six would be gone in minutes, when Charlie let out a yelp of delight.

"I FOUND HIM! TAKE THAT MR DEAN WINCHESTER FROM LAWRENCE KANSAS!"

She thrust her computer at Castiel, who perched himself on the edge of the bed. It was a facebook page, a small photo of the man from this morning beaming in the corner, arm wrapped awkwardly around a incredibly tall and shaggy haired youth. The page announced that Dean Winchester was 24 years old, worked as a mechanic, had a brother called Sam and was currently single. Charlie wiggled her eyebrows at him when he looked up.

"What?"

"Alright, not the reaction I was looking for. I guess you need more information."

She reached over and began to type again, but Castiel stopped her. Although he had to admit he was kind of interested in Dean (in a friendly way of course), this was a little bit creepy. 

"Why don't you just text him?"

She sighed and fell back onto his bed.

"Why do you always want to do things the easy way?"


	4. Waitresses, Texts and an invitation

Dean wasn't surprised that even though he was half an hour late Sam was still waiting for him. He was just that kind of kid, though dean supposed he should call him a man now he was gonna become a big shot lawyer. Sam was sitting awkwardly in one of the window seats, knees lifting the table, sipping carefully from a cup that was way to small for his hands. At the sight of Dean he kicked out the seat in front of him, which Dean gratefully plopped himself into. A cute waitress appeared and dean smiled, raising a flirtatious eyebrow causing her to blush.

"I'll have the pig'n a poke special please."

She smiled, giving him one last look before heading off into the kitchen. Sam rolled his eyes, but thankfully remained silent on the matter, instead changing the subject.

"So, why were you late?" Watson made a sound beneath the table and dean rubbed his ears, leaning back in his seat so he could see his meal being prepared.

"Don't be mad but I lost watson-"  
"You what?"  
"Jeesh, look at him he's fine. And them I met some people in the park. Some chick who was into sherlock and a guy that watson knocked over."

Sam's lips parted, about to say something when the waitress came back over, remarkably more made up than earlier. She dropped the plate, slid over a cutlery wrapped in a napkin and walked away.

"She gave up quickly. "

Dean smirked and lifted up the napkin so that sam could see the phone number and love hearts scrawled along it.

"I thought you said you liked men?"

That wiped the smirk off dean's face in an instant. He turned beet red and the next time he spoke his voice cracked ever so slightly.

"Jeesh Sam. Say it any louder and astronauts in space could hear you. I like both. Equally. Although, I got to admit that waitress is currently more attractive than the waiter."

Sam's rolled his eyes again. Dean considered taking a shot at sams love life (the last girlfriend he had broke up with him 2 years ago, saying their romance had burned out) but it wasn't often sam could come down from law school and dean wanted to see him again.

"So, how's your fancy school?"  
................................................  
Dean had just gotten home, entering the crappy apartment that he only lived in because it was close the garage he worked at and allowed dogs, when his phone let out a electronic beep, nearly causing him to drop the box full of pie he'd picked up on the way. Watson weaved himself between dean's legs before flopping himself onto his dog bed, watchful eyes tracking the pies movement as dean set it on the counter. Flicking open his phone (no matter how many times sam nagged him he had used the same flip phone for the last five years) he saw that the number was unknown and his skin prickled. It was probably nothing, a call provider perhaps, as long as it wasn't... but he hadn't surfaced in years. He looked at the message.

Hello there sherlock

He frowned, confused, but this mornings drama resurfaced in his mind and he remembered that he gave his number to that redhead... Charlie? Yes, charlie. He considered ignoring it, but ever since sam has left he didn't talk to anyone except jo, Ellen and Bobby, good family friends of his late mother. He was halfway through convincing himself to reply when it beeped again.

Me and Cas were thinking of going out... You game?

Was he? Every instinct in his body screamed for him to put the phone down, grab a beer and fall asleep to the sound of the untouchables,yet he found himself replying.

D- I didn't think Cas was the kind of guy who wants to go out...

C- Let me amend my previous statement. I am dragging cas out tonight and I wanted to know if you wanted to come. I can promise beer, fast food and a small amount of average silence.

Dean leant against the counter and sighed. He did have pie, but he could just eat it later. He looked towards watson, who met his eyes with as serious an expression a dog can have, almost as if he was telling dean to get his shit together and stop moping about. Watson then proceeded to fart, in turn scaring himself and casing him to jump in suprise, but dean decided to ignore that and focus on the "get your shit together" part. It was decided.

D- Count me in.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it wasn't terrible. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
